Half Way
by evening spirit
Summary: Mary finds out who Dean Van Halen really was. Or so she thinks.


Summary: Mary finds out who Dean Van Halen really was. Or so she thinks.

Beta'ed by Silwyna. Thank you mucho!

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Half Way.

***  
"It's been five years, Mary," he said.

Mary sighed and looked up; met his eyes. Hunched up over a cup of coffee in their tiny kitchen John looked so . . . lost. And made those puppy eyes at her, ones she couldn't usually resist.

Usually, but not in this.

He added a soft smile to the look. "I'm sure no one remembers!"

Right! Why would anyone remember a murder-and-suicide? After all the Campbells had only lived in Lawrence for what? A year?

Mary had a real life now, a decent job, a boyfriend--

"We could get married and go back--"

Funny how he was the one convincing her that everything was going to be alright. Five years ago it had all been on her, she'd had to convince him that he hadn't murdered her father, she'd had to make it look believable to the police -- and she had, without much cooperation on John's part. Without much cooperation on anyone's part.

She had been pissed -- then -- that this Dean-guy had just up and vanished on her. It had been then, before she learned the truth about who he had been. Who she suspected he had been. She had an idea now, she needed to research a few more things, to be sure. She worked at a library where she had access to aplenty of fine books on the subject and giving it up would be difficult.

But John missed his folks and his home-town.

There had to be libraries in Lawrence, Kansas, right?

***

The town lived off the story of the mayor cheating on his wife with the local newspaper columnist. The house John wanted to buy was in a quiet district. And Campbells? Were they the folk that bred the two headed cow three years ago?

Yes, Lawrence, Kansas was as safe as any town in this country.

There wasn't any problem with getting a job at the local library. The boss, Mrs. Megan Singer, was a lovely lady and it soon turned out there were just three of them there, her, Megan and Amanda. And Megan's husband, Robert, who was a regular visitor.

"He likes books, that's why he married me," Megan joked. "Ask him anything and he'll find it for you."

It was early April, two months after they'd moved back to Lawrnece, when Mary gathered enough courage to verify Megan's words and ask Robert if he knew anything about angels.

"The fluffy winged angels?" He laughed.

"More like guardian angels," she replied. "Is there a way to talk to them? Like, ask them a question and have them answer."

***

Three weeks later Robert showed up on her doorstep with a handful of books. John was stunned to say the least.

"Angels? You're researching angels?"

She'd never told him anything about that. She'd gotten it from him that he'd met one Dean Van Halen, but she'd never admitted to meeting the guy too, to what he'd been doing, how he'd affected her life. How he'd bailed on her when she'd needed him most -- another hunter that might understand her.

Except that he hadn't been a hunter at all.

Dean had appeared in her life for three days, and then had vanished. Nobody, no other hunter, had ever heard of him, no one that she'd known anyway.

"It says that guardian angels are really the Archangels." Robert opened one of the books with fanciful drawings and pages so yellow it could easily be a hundred years old. "Only three Archangels appear in the Bible. And actually only two of them in the New Testament, Gabriel and Michael. Raphael appears in the Book of Tobias. It is said that there are seven, who stand before the Lord, though. And those seven are said to be the guardian angels depending on what day of the week you were born. What day you were born, Mary?"

"Thursday."

"So your angel would be Sealtiel. That's from Eastern Orthodox Church, not Catholic. Also there are all kinds of Seraphim and Cherubim and Babilonian Nebuchadenezzar calls the guardian angels 'cherubs'." Robert went on and on, and all he could tell her were the tales from the Bible, Sumer or Egyptian mythology and the such. And he believed in none of this.

She couldn't believe that she wished she'd meet some of the hunters now. Anyone who would know what she was thinking about was real.

Except that the hunters didn't really believe in angels; none had ever met one.

She believed she had.

Dean Van Halen had been her personal guardian angel. He had been no Archangel, he could have been a Seraphim or Cherubim, or whatever the Persians wanted to call them. He had the most startling eyes she'd ever seen and when she'd looked in them, she'd felt like looking at herself; like in the mirror. This was why she'd trusted him on the whim. He'd asked "Are you a hunter?" She'd turned to look at him -- really look at him -- and had gotten lost in those eyes.

If it weren't how angels looked like, what was?

***

She searched through Robert's books back and forth. She'd sat at the library long past closing hours. John started getting jealous and Mary knew she would have to play wife soon. They were married now and she couldn't even really tell when that had happened.

Five years ago -- it was all she could think about.

Half way mark.

The demon had said he would be back in ten years and she needed to know what it was up to! Her angel was the only one who could possibly know.

On the last day of April she met up with Robert and handed him one of the books. He opened it on a page she marked.

"Seriously?" he asked, looking at her wide-eyed. "You wanna summon an angel?"

"I don't know. It says this spell can force any entity to show their true face. It's the only thing I can think of."

"Why do you want it so badly?"

"Robert--" How was she supposed to explain any of it to this stranger?

"Whatever." He loved all that mysterious stuff. Besides he didn't really believe in this; it was only fun for him. "Except that I found something else." He smirked mischevously. "The guardian angels are supposed to protect us, right? They are bind by God's orders of course, but there are prayers. Not spells, Mary, prayers. If you truly believe in those angels, and you pray, you bind them to protect you some more. That what you want?"

Mary stared at him as if he'd just opened her eyes. That was what she really needed; she needed her guardian angel to protect her. To protect the ones she loved.

"You have to pray to your Sealtiel." Robert smiled.

Sealtiel. She wanted to pray to her Dean, but Robert said there was no prayer to any Dean. So she prayed to the Angel of Thursday.

And nothing happened.

***

John had taken her for a trip the next day. He'd grown tired of her absence and she was tired of her researches. She had wanted a normal life once, why was she returning to the event of five years ago?

She let go, they made love like mad and--

A month later Mary realized she was pregnant.

She decided to not worry about the supernatural things any more. She had five more years, what would come would come, she'd worry about that later. She had real life to worry about now. A real job, a real husband, and a baby on the way. What more could she ask for?

On Christmas Eve, John told her what names he was thinking for their baby.

"If it's a boy we should name him Samuel, and if it's a girl she should be Deanna." He gazed at her sheepishly. "What do you think?"

It was so sweat of him. Sam or Deanna--

"No," she said, suddenly surprised. "If it's a girl we'll name her Deanna, and if it's a boy we'll name him-- Dean." She looked up at John and his furrowed brow. "I want this baby to be named after my mother," she explained.

But she knew it would be a boy.

And when he was born, a month later, a couple of weeks early -- and she looked into his eyes . . . she felt like looking at herself. Like in the mirror.

***  
.end

AN 1: Selaphiel or Sealtiel is the name of the Angel of Thursday, one of seven Archangels. So the Wikipedia says. It's hard to say if Castiel is another transcription of some ancient language, or if it's just a name of another language. Either way I thought Sealtiel worked for me here and I didn't want to change it. Hope you don't mind peoples. :)

A/N 2: just want to add that the "looking into my child's eyes and feeling like looking at myself" is my own real life experience. I had this kind of shocking flash with my older girl when she was a baby and it's actually the most amazing feeling. Also, aren't our children angels in fact? ;) (when they are not monsters . . .)

Also . . . Please, drop me a line? *puppy eyes*


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